A gift long forgotten
by Aminta
Summary: If you haven't read the fifth book, don't read, it will spoil everything. Well, Harry gets that person back, in a way. First chapter's up, second on the way.
1. chapter one

A gift long forgotten  
  
Ok, this starts after Order of the Phoenix, and I do not own or take credit for any characters in the Harry Potter series. If you haven't read the fifth book- this will be a spoiler- so consider yourself for warned.  
  
Harry dropped his trunk onto the floor of his small bedroom. He looked around at the familiar setting, and the peeling paint around the window, where bars had been ripped from its edge a few short years ago. He'd forgotten how much time had passed. He didn't know his Godfather then, he didn't even know he had one. Harry shook his head roughly, "No. Not that. Don't think about it right now." He could feel himself being watched, and turned around to find Dudley in the doorway. Harry was surprised that his oaf of a cousin was actually capable of being this quiet. But noticing the sickening grin on Dudley's face, Harry knew that the silence wouldn't be lasting very long. What a shame.  
  
"Hya Freak. How was your year? Kill anybody?" "Alas no." said Harry. "You don't go to my school, so it's hard to get at you, you know. Which is surprising considering your size. But don't worry, I'm home now, and I'm sure I'll succeed sooner or later." Said Harry patting the wand in his right pocket. "You're not allowed. They'll throw you out if you try any of that stuff again." Said Dudley with a slight hint of nervousness in his voice. "What makes you think that I care anymore?" said Harry honestly.  
  
Dudley, knowing he had been defeated turned to go, and slammed the door behind him. "Mum says you're still not to leave the room." Yelled Dudley through the door. "Whatever Mummy says then, Ickly Duddydums!" said Harry through the door. He could hear Dudley tromping down the stairs through the wall, and Harry turned back to his trunk, which he left. He didn't want to unpack. He didn't want to see anything that reminded him of school- or the past year. He didn't want to be a wizard. What good was magic if it still kept him away from Sirius? "No." he thought. "Just forget that. Just for now."  
  
Harry had spent the end of the school year thinking about nothing else. And nobody understood. Sure, Dumbledore tried, but it wasn't the same. Everyone just wanted to move on, but Harry just wanted to forget. Not forever. Just long enough to sleep peacefully. And with that he flopped down onto his bed, face down, taking in the familiar smell of his own bed. It wasn't long however, before he felt the memories creeping in. The sight of his godfather and best friend falling lifelessly, with a look of disbelief, through the dark veil. He would never see him again. "No." Sirius would never breathe again. He would never smile again- because he didn't even have a face with which to smile anymore. "No.shut up..." he was gone, he stopped existing, and nothing would ever bring him back. "SHUT UP!" Harry got up out of his bed and opened Headwig's cage, where she was hooting peacefully, too peacefully. It was driving Harry mad. It reminded him of school. Harry tore open the cage door and pulled it over to the open window, where she flew out, unsure of where she was going. She flapped a moment in front of the window, and then tried to perch on the window sill. "Go away." Said Harry. "I don't care where you go- go visit Ron or something. Just go away." Headwig had a surprisingly emotional face for a bird, as if she couldn't believe what she had heard. Oddly enough, Harry had the distinct impression that Headwig sort of understood- to a point anyway. And instead of being just angry with Harry's behavior, she looked worried. He wasn't being himself, and Harry knew that too. "I'm sorry." He said, not really meaning it. "But please just go away." She blinked a moment, as though contemplating whether it was safe to leave him, and then she soared away into the afternoon sky, just starting to turn purple above the sunset. Harry turned to his bed again, and didn't even try to stop the soft trickle of tears which watered his pillow as he fell asleep. 


	2. chapter two cause i suck at names

It was maybe three weeks before Headwig came back. Harry felt awful when he woke up the next morning, remembering how cruel he had been to her. He spent those three weeks hoping she would come back- after all, his birthday was coming up, he would want to send letters to Ron and Hermione, but more than anything, he felt sorry. After all, she was a bird, it wasn't her fault if she couldn't understand. Harry came into his bedroom after another stroll, despite Aunt Petunia's refusal for him to leave his room, and was surprised to find the Snowy- white Owl sitting on his window sill. She kept her eyes down, as though unsure of whether she was even allowed in the room. Harry, who was still feeling miserable, but to some extent a little better forgot everything and ran to the bird and tried to hug her. Bad move. Owls are not at all sociable outside the Wizarding world- and even inside it- you never EVER hug them. The bird fluttered to the bed knob of the poster around Harry's bed and hooted at him and he nursed the little chunk missing from his left ear and the several new scratches upon his cheeks and hands. As far as he was concerned- they were even now.  
  
Several band-aids later, Harry returned to the bed and sat next to the bird, and chanced a move to stroke her back- which she did not refuse. It was at this moment that Harry noticed the red enveloped tied to her ankle, and removed it quickly. Tearing it open he was surprised to see a full letter, from which fell five or six small scraps of paper, which fluttered to the floor.  
  
Deciding to take on the letter first, Harry left the pieces of paper on the floor forgotten, as he felt a warm feeling close over his shoulders upon noticing Dumbledore's familiar handwriting.  
  
Dear Harry  
  
There's a spell on this parchment so that you can't read it in advance- your birthday isn't for two more days- maybe one by the time this gets to you. You'll just have to be patient. Enclosed are a few more messages from the Weasley's and Remus-also enchanted. I hope the Dursley's are treating you well, and happy birthday. -Albus Dumbledore  
  
p.s. Your Owl seems to be very.discombobulated, perhaps she needs some extra attention.  
  
Harry smiled for the first time in months, and truly meant it. He was surprised at himself. It didn't change anything- Sirius was still gone. But for the moment at least, he felt less alone.  
  
In two days' time, it was Harry's birthday. To his relief, the Dursley's didn't give him a present this year. They had a habit of giving him things that even the Salvation Army couldn't find a use for. At about ten o'clock, he crept back up to his room, and found a strange glowing light coming from under his bed, where he had left the letter. He pulled them out and the parchment glowed more fiercely in his hands. It was warm and began to spurt little colored sparks from the corners of the page. Looking closely at the letter, he noticed that the message had changed, and now said:  
  
Happy birthday Harry. Your real present is here, at headquarters. You'll forgive a selfish old man, but I wanted to see you when you opened it. I've never really given a student a birthday gift before, so it's become something of a novelty for me. Ron and Hermione however, suggested that we throw you a little party. Therefore - if you're up to seeing some people, the envelope in which this letter came in will become a portkey at midnight. It's up to you- and I'll fully understand if you'd rather be alone. I must suggest however that you read the pieces from Remus and the Weasley's promptly however, I remember hearing them say something about sending you a howler. I'll send someone to your room at midnight to take the portkey with you, if you decide to go. If not, they will bring you your gifts. Happy Birthday Harry. -Albus Dumbledore.  
  
Harry was not up to seeing people. He could imagine it now, a room full of pity, with everyone hugging him, and throwing in comments and questions at odd moments throughout the night, like, "So..Harry..are you- how are you doing..since..?"  
  
He suddenly realized though, that he shouldn't blame is friends for wanting to be nice, for wanting to make sure he was ok. He still wasn't ready. He felt like a large piece of him were missing, and though he searched every day, he would never, ever find that piece again, and every morning he would wake up from a round of terrible dreams, and in waking suddenly remember that something was lost. That someone was lost, and they were never coming back. Trying not to think about this, Harry then turned to the small scraps of parchment and read them each in turn as they glowed in is hands.  
  
Dear Harry HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Mom wanted to send you a howler that would sing 'happy birthday' to you- but I told her it might wake your cousins, and she finally forgot the idea. That didn't convince Fred and George though. Well, I'm sure Dumbledore's told you everything- hope to see you soon! -Ron  
  
HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY! I hope you're enjoying your holidays. I mean- I know it's hard to-to- yeah I'm not really sure what it is I'm trying to say, but I think you understand. Harry, I'd love to see you, but please do not come if you're not ready. You need time to deal with this I'm sure. Anyways, I'm sure we'll be seeing you soon. Dumbledore's acting very strange. We'll tell you all about it when you get here. -Hermione  
  
And there it was, exactly what he was afraid of, there, in writing, in his hands- from Hermione. With a new sickness in his stomach, he slowly turned to the last two pieces, not really wanting to read them any more at all.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
Hope your holidays are going well. Remember to let us know if your cousins need any persuasion. If we don't see you for your birthday, at least check in, so we know they haven't locked you up in some dungeon. You never know with Muggles, do you? Happy Birthday! -Tonks, Moody, and Lupin.  
  
Dear Harry, Hope your Holidays are going well. We'd just love to see you of course, so do try and visit if you're feeling up to it. I'm afraid there isn't very much new news here. If you know what I mean. Bill, Charlie, and Arthur send their best wishes. Happy Birthday! -Molly  
  
p.s. How close is your room to your cousins'? That is to say, how heavily do they sleep, and how well does sound carry from your room? Hope to see you soon!  
  
Out of the lot, Harry though that Mrs. Weasley's was the strangest. But then he remembered what Ron said about the Howler, and laughed a little. He looked over to a more than once broken clock on his bedside table, which read 10:47 in the soft moonlight through his window. Just a little bit longer, and then he'd have to decide.  
  
As the time rolled around, Harry decided that even if he were uncomfortable, he could always trot off to bed unnoticed and sleep it off. 


End file.
